


Ignore my problems tonight

by Codango



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Campfires, Crush at First Sight, First Meetings, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Secret Identity, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 13:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16138007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codango/pseuds/Codango
Summary: “Show yourself.” Soren kept his voice firm. He’d learned long ago to not let fear into it. Not even when he didn’t know what was going on. Which seemed to be happening more and more these days.A hunched figure limped into the firelight. “Less to show than there was,” said a deep voice wryly.





	Ignore my problems tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place immediately after S1Ep9, so that means spoilers for the entire first season. You've been warned.

“I’ll just…get a fire going.” Soren backed away from the purple arc of light emanating from the jar in his sister’s hand.

Claudia turned to him, her eyes still glowing. “Oh, are you hungry? I know a spell to boil water instantly, if you’re trying to get dinner started!”

She sounded so normal. Like they were going on one of their old family camping trips. Soren remembered those trips. They would go to the summer lodge on the lake with King Harrow and Prince Callum and Prince Ezran. Prince Callum never caught a fish, not in the ten years they’d gone, because Ezran would cry to see a fish on a hook.

Soren felt sick. “You look busy,” he said, backing away. “There was a good spot halfway down the mountainside. Flat, next to water. I’ll just go at it the old-fashioned way.”

Claudia looked at him, the glow dying in her eyes a little but not quite going out. “If you’re sure,” she said slowly.

He was sure. He thought about saying dinner would taste better over a real fire instead of a magical one, but he doubted that make him feel better. The sick feeling as he went about laying the fire had little to do with magic.

And everything to do with what his dad told him right before Soren and Claudia left to search for the princes.

_…a weight only you will carry…_

He didn’t want the weight. It was an ugly, rotten weight, and he didn’t want anything to do with it. The history of mankind, his father had said. Callum was too…inept to affect the history of mankind! He was just Callum, fourteen, clumsy, barely capable of holding a pencil in hand, much less a sword. And Ezran? Soren scoffed as he struck his flint at the kindling he’d laid. Not six months ago, Soren had caught the child chatting away to a goat in the town market. Harmless, the both of them.

Although to Viren’s way of thinking—Soren frowned into the growing flames—that harmlessness was reason enough to ensure they never came home again.

Soren wanted to vomit.

It would probably smell horrid in the fire.

Claudia joined him just as the water was on the boil. “I’ll get the dried noodles.” She was surprisingly soft and quiet. They were never like this around each other, serious and grave. He didn’t like it.

He sat on the ground in front of the fire, pulled his knees to his chest, and buried his head in his arms. Like a little kid.

“Halloo the camp…” A weak voice, followed by the scrape of a careless boot heel, had Soren on his feet in seconds. Claudia was at his side in a heartbeat, her palms swirling with a hideous purple fog.

“Show yourself.” Soren kept his voice firm. He’d learned long ago to not let fear into it. Not even when he didn’t know what was going on. Which seemed to be happening more and more these days.

A hunched figure limped into the firelight. “Less to show than there was,” said a deep voice wryly.

“Oh. Oh gods…” Claudia extinguished the purple fog, for which Soren was immediately grateful. He kept his sword unsheathed.

The man made it to the warmth of the fire before collapsing to his knees, breath hissing between his teeth. He held a hand to his ribs, and oh Soren knew what that meant. Broken. He winced in sympathy.

“What happened to you?” Claudia asked, rushing forward. She would know pain-dampening spells at least.

“Took a long tumble down a rocky hill. Overconfident in my footing.” The man looked up at Soren and gave a slight laugh that probably still jarred his ribs. “Took the wind out of my sails for a few days, I imagine.”

Soren, for his part, felt his own breath knocked clean from him. He’d never seen eyes like that before. A perfect amber. Faint scruff didn’t do much to hide a sharp jaw, dark skin, and the hair—so much of it, barely contained in a wiry gather at the back of his head.

“You should lie down.” Fortunately, Claudia wasn’t as uselessly distracted.

“I’m sorry for the necessity to invite myself into your camp,” the man said, gasping as he tried to lower himself to the ground.

Soren jolted into action. “Here, let me…” His arms were around the man’s shoulders in no time. A small spark heated his gut when he felt the man’s full weight relax against him gratefully.

“Pain is a great enemy to pride,” the man gasped.

“Don’t try to talk,” Soren insisted. He held the man’s head against his thigh, hesitant to leave him to the unforgiving earth. “Claudia, get my bedroll?”

“Let’s do something for that pain first.” Claudia bent over the man, her pale hands outstretched. Soren braced himself for the black-and-purple glow, but this time, soft golden light spread from her fingertips across the man’s ribs. His sigh was deep and long and satisfied, and Soren had to look up at the trees covering them overhead.

“A mage,” the man breathed with relief. “My luck is certainly improving. Thank you.” He peered up at her. “Claudia. Was it?”

“I’m Soren,” Soren cut in. He just stopped himself from stating that he was a crownguardsman, the youngest ever, in fact. There was being available, and then there was being obvious.

“Soren.” Amber eyes studied him, taking in his uniform. A thin scar bisected one thick eyebrow. Dark skin seemed to shine in the firelight. Soren’s heart picked up the pace. When the man smiled, Soren wondered if anyone else could hear it threaten to burst through his chest entirely. “Thank you, Soren. Your hospitality does credit to the crown guards.”

Soren was going to spontaneously combust right then and there. He stared, incapable of doing much else.

Claudia cleared her throat. “And what shall we call you? Only dinner is about ready, and we don’t have a bell, so I’ll have to let you know it’s time to eat somehow.”

Claudia was clever with a spell and excellent at tracking, but normal conversation with strangers was not a skillset dark magic seemed to touch on.

The man braced against Soren’s thigh looked at her with a brief smile, then turned that amber gaze back up at Soren. “Call me Corval.”

“Corval,” Claudia said slowly. “That’s…a name, I suppose.”

Soren would have called him just about anything he’d asked for, authenticity be damned. Half an hour ago, he’d felt sick to his gut with problems he didn’t know how to solve. He still didn’t, of course, and he’d have to resolve them somehow. And soon.

But they were suddenly a lot easier to ignore for tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a need to ship Soren with someone deathly serious. And that someone is apparently going to be Corvus, General Amaya's elite tracker.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [@codango](http://codango.tumblr.com/) or on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/marcella_writes)!


End file.
